Teaspoon Tirade
by Jim Carnival
Summary: Nobita had only one meager talent that could earn him Suneo's attention. ჯ Prompt result. Suneo/Nobita.


**Note: **Another prompt result that's overdue. Why Suneo/Nobita? I don't know. I don't ship it. I just like to spite my darling writing partner.

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For most people, talents come in varying degrees of diversity and intensity. Nobita Nobi, however, had three skills that he considered worthy; three skills that other people referred to as "talents" for the mere sake of sparing his feelings. One of those loosely labeled "talents" involving pasting a spoon to his nose and holding it in place for longer than twenty seconds.

Nobita flaunted this fabled talent over a spread of lunch. With a flourish to put a magician to shame, he brandished a silver spoon above his meager audience. Light shone in a little star that glinted on the rim of the spoon.

"Now," Nobita said, sounding as important as a president, "time me."

Suneo slumped forward to prop his elbow on the table and cup his chin. He heaved a sigh. "Come on, Nobita. Do I really have to? I want to eat already."

"Don't rush me!" Nobita said. "This trick takes time. You can't be too careful. You have to have a steady hand and lots of precision."

Nobita's voice faded into a buzz as Suneo glanced at the dish in the center of the table. Crabcakes were stacked high, still sending curlicues of steam into the air. Despite the cakes being made of the same rubbery strings as cheap fishsticks, Suneo still longed for one. Anything was more appetizing than watching Nobita scrub a spoon over his tongue.

"Suneo!" Nobita said. "You're not looking."

Suneo suffered himself to turn and tore his gaze from the bowl of crabcakes. He watched with as much interest as one waiting for paint to dry.

Satisfied that he stood in the spotlight, Nobita squared himself, straightened his back, and planted his heels into the ground. He held the spoon high as the torch of liberty, until light angled off the scuffed handle. He lowered his other arm at his side, as if to prove that no strings aided in this dazzling trick. In a swift swoop, he popped the spoon into his mouth and dragged it down his tongue. He withdrew it with a cringe-inducing _slirrup_. Slime gleamed in a generous layer on the bowl of the spoon.

Suneo realized that, in fact, he wasn't as hungry as he had earlier thought.

Nobita's mouth closed into a smug grin. With all the careful precision of a watchmaker, he raised the spoon and squashed it against his nose.

Suneo watched. The spoon handle swung like a pendulum, then slowed, then stilled. It dangled from Nobita's nose precariously. It reminded Suneo rather of an elephant's trunk.

Behind the spoon, Nobita's grin stretched wide as the Persian Gulf. "Neat, huh? Can you do that?" He swaggered a little. The spoon slid down the bridge of his nose just enough to make him freeze.

"Yeah, neat," Suneo said. "Why would I _want_ to do that?"

"Why wouldn't you? It's––" Nobita's shoulders locked up just before the spoon slipped off his nose. It landed with a clank on the table and clattered. Nobita glared at Suneo, clenching his fists.

"Why did you have to go and make me do that? I almost had it for twenty-five seconds. That would have been a new record!" Nobita retrieved the spoon and scrubbed off the ooze with his shirt. His glasses practically fogged up with rage.

Suneo leaned back, both out of disbelief and fear that Nobita would find another, more dangerous use for a spoon. He swallowed. "Does it really matter that much?"

"Of course it does!" Nobita snapped. "And don't you even think about it; you're not eating anything until I beat my record. I'll prove it to you that I can do something neat!"

Nobita jerked the spoon up to his mouth again, ignoring Suneo's protests, and swabbed his tongue over it. With breaths shallow and shaky, he hovered the spoon before his nose and smashed the bowl over it. The instant he lowered his hand, the spoon slipped. He yelped and fumbled to catch it, swiping it out of the air before it could rattle against the table again.

"Nobita? Really, you don't––"

"Shut up, I've got it!" The more agitated he became, the more his hands trembled. He licked the spoon again, pushed it to his nose, and held it as if waiting for glue to set. He reeled back his hand, and the spoon fell. Nobita shoved his fingers into his hair, ready to rip it out in chunks.

"It was fine just a minute ago!" He glared at Suneo with calculated fury. "You're messing me up!"

He snatched up the spoon again, wadded the hem of his shirt in his fist, and scoured out the spit.

"You're not eating a thing until you see me beat my record."

"That could take years!" Suneo blurted. When Nobita aimed one withering look over his shoulder, Suneo shrank back. "I came here for lunch, Nobita, not the circus. I want to eat!"

"You will as soon as I get this, but not before." Nobita huffed with exertion, polishing the spoon until it glittered. He held it up, surveying it with keen interest. "Why won't it stick? It worked fine earlier."

The longer Suneo watched Nobita, and the more he smelled the buttery, fishy scent of the crabcakes; the more his stomach twisted with hunger, the more frustrated he became. In one dive, he slammed his palms onto the table, anchored himself, and stretched forward to push his face two inches from Nobita's. He leaned over so far that his forelock mixed with Nobita's and tufted between their foreheads. Suneo scrunched his face into a scowl to melt steel.

"What are you doing?" Nobita said. One side of his mouth tugged up in a sneer of disgust.

Without replying, Suneo reached down to pry open Nobita's hand. He wrestled the spoon from him, barely noticing how warm and sticky with sweat it was. Suneo climbed further over the table, pressing his knee against the edge for balance, and wrapped his free hand in Nobita's collar. With a jerk that sacked Nobita's breath from his throat, Suneo hauled him forward. He paused for only an instant before shutting his eyes and skimming his tongue up the slope of Nobita's nose.

Had his collar not been twisted around his neck, Nobita would have howled as if doused with a barrel of ice water. In his present state, however, all he could do was choke on a gasp and splutter like a car engine. Calm as a millpond, Suneo turned the spoon to press its cold bowl gently against Nobita's nose. It hung.

"There," Suneo said in satisfaction. "It stuck. What a great trick. Now can we eat?"

"I––I––" Nobita continued to stammer as he stared crosseyed down his nose. The spoon remained plastered to his nose. Even through his sputtering, it clung, swaying in gentle arcs as if rocked by a gentle breeze. Nobita swallowed. His face shone red and burned over a roadmap of veins.

Suneo plopped to the cushion beside the table and began picking through the bowl of crabcakes for the largest, most buttery one. As though he had never yelled, never climbed the table, and never licked Nobita's face, he settled himself, leaned back comfortably, and pushed half a crabcake into his mouth. He chewed away with a sly smile.

"Come on, Nobita." Suneo swallowed. "Aren't you hungry?"

Nobita eyed the bowl of crabcakes, and slowly folded his arms over his stomach to clamp down the ache. No; he wasn't hungry. He was more worried about what Mom would say if she discovered a particular one of her silver spoons missing.

He only hoped she wouldn't ever think of checking in his desk drawer.

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**Note: **I can't make excuses for myself.


End file.
